


Cultura

by Blitziaeleece



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: AU, Alive Marco Bott, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Artist Jean Kirstein, Awkward Jean Kirstein, Biting, Eventual Romance, First Meetings, Flirting, GUYS, Gay, Hair-pulling, Hope you're ready, I know cheese, I'm french, It's based on a dream I had in December, Jean isn't really comfortable around people, Kissing, Long-haired Jean Kirstein, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, One Shot, POV Marco Bott, Retail Worker Marco Bott, Strangers to Lovers, The story takes place in France, Wordcount: 10.000-30.000, like so cheesy I'm about to shove my whole ass country down your throat, men kissing, no beta we die like men, ohboy is it cheesy, ohmygod, so cheesy, so ye, some side springles, they make out at some point, you're so not ready
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:33:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29141571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blitziaeleece/pseuds/Blitziaeleece
Summary: He was a pale blond man, I was a tanned dark-haired one. His skin was flawless, mine was riddled with freckles. He looked and was grumpy and rude, I looked and was cheerful and nice. He had sharp features, mine were softer. He had a thin trail of beard all along his jawline and a goatee, I was perfectly shaved. He had long hair, I had short hair. He dressed a bit like an edgy punk-rock guy, I was much more classic with a plain white shirt with dark pants. He looked and smelled like trouble, I looked and smelled like tranquility. His whole appearance screamed ‘I am my parents’ disappointment’, mine screamed ‘My parents are proud of the man I’ve become’. He seemed to be an agitated cloudy night sky, I was a calm cloudless summer day. He was an artist and I was employed by Cultura.
Relationships: Marco Bott & Jean Kirstein, Marco Bott/Jean Kirstein
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Cultura

**Author's Note:**

> I AM BACK, GUYS!!
> 
> So uuuh I started writing this in December which means the story takes place last year in France!! (Friendly reminder that I am French so please, don't be too harsh on me of you find some mistakes ;-; That being said, tell me if I misspelled a word)
> 
> Marco works at Cultura! It's a French company selling many things such as books, music, video games, art supplies!
> 
> Also, Jean's art journey is totally based on my own (please, don't be mad at me ;-;)
> 
> Thanks a lot for giving a chance to this piece of work!

He was a pale blond man, I was a tanned dark-haired one. His skin was flawless, mine was riddled with freckles. He looked and was grumpy and rude, I looked and was cheerful and nice. He had sharp features, mine were softer. He had a thin trail of beard all along his jawline and a goatee, I was perfectly shaved. He had long hair, I had short hair. He dressed a bit like an edgy punk-rock guy, I was much more classic with a plain white shirt with dark pants. He looked and smelled like trouble, I looked and smelled like tranquility. His whole appearance screamed ‘I am my parents’ disappointment’, mine screamed ‘My parents are proud of the man I’ve become’. He seemed to be an agitated cloudy night sky, I was a calm cloudless summer day. He was an artist and I was employed by Cultura.

In four words like in one hundred and forty-eight, we were polar opposites. We obviously had nothing in common, the only thing I knew so far about him wasn’t something I was into. Based on our looks, we were the kind of people who would never interact. I knew that for sure. (I also knew for sure I shouldn’t assuming things about him like I was doing right now)

And yet..

I was curious about him and assuming things.

Mr Smith, the store’s manager, thought it could be interesting to invite an artist in order to promote our art supplies section and since I was assigned to this alley, I was the one who had to make sure everything was alright. Christmas was coming and we had guests every week. Last week, we had a lady who crocheted, next we’ll welcome some kind of jewelry creator.

The artist was undressing in the events corner. He put his heavy-looking coat on the chair on this right and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had a dark green scarf and a flannel of the same color but slightly darker. He wore black clothes, a plain tee and pretty tight jeans shoved in leather boots. I noticed a chain hanging on the left side of his pants. His hair was tied up, revealing a darker undercut which made his nape look paler. _Stop it, Marco, you’re staring!_ , I scolded myself.

I was supposed to welcome him and ask what his favorite medium was. Mr Smith said ‘Even if he can’t decide, tell him he can have two different kinds of supplies and everything related, I don’t know much about art. That being said, don’t give him too much, I still have to make money. If you have any questions, please refer to Armin’. Armin Arlert was Erwin’s assistant, him and I got hired the same year but my colleague’s ideas and investment got him promoted pretty fast, so fast that rumors were spread about his relationship with our boss, the others were just being jealous.

The guest wasn’t a popular artist. He got chosen because out of the few who were willing to come, he was the cheapest one. It’s not like Cultura was a small independent business, there were ninety-one stores in the whole country, the last two opening were last year and were located near Clermont-Ferrand and Lyon. So you guess we could have afforded to give him more money.

I inhale deeply and head to the white table he was leaning on.

“Good morning!” I greet, he doesn’t care looking at me, not a single glance, nothing. “I am Marco and I..”

“Cool, whatever.” he cuts me mid-sentence before shrugging. “Name’s on the paper tag on the table, guess you can read. What supplies am I going to use?”

So his name’s Jean K., his voice is deep and husky as if he just woke up. He seems to be unused to getting up early based on the dark circles he had, he was expected to show up half an hour before the opening. He did. I had to greet him and explain everything on that time lapse. I have five minutes left because I spent my whole time analyzing (staring at) him from not that far away.

“Not a morning person either?” he asks, frowning.

“I don’t mind mornings. So, about the supplies, you can use your favorite. They just have to be picked here. Mr Smith wants you to use our stuff to show people what you can do with what we sell.” I explain. He nods.

“Okay, then, show me the watercolor section.” he declares.

It was one of our smallest areas but he looked like a kid opening his presents on December 25th. He obviously didn’t like people but he sure loved that stuff. He grabbed a white box with colored paper wrapped around the plastic tin on which I could read ‘Van Gogh’, he took a black Faber-Castell pen, three brushes, I couldn’t see which ones but they were blue; a thin one, a thick one and the last one was in-between. I noticed he chose one of our cheapest paper blocks, it was the company’s brand.

“Is that all you need? No pencil or eraser?” I ask.

“I took the basic stuff to sketch, I was told not to bring my usual supplies. I still brought my mechanical pencil and my erasers just in case.” he responded.

We went back to his seat.

“Do you, by any chance, have two cups? I mean, even cut bottles would work. I just need water.” he timidly grinned and my heart leaped. I noticed he was much more talkative and open for a chat when it came to art. He also sounded way smoother.

“Just give me a sec.” I smiled back at him and left for the coffee machine. I needed a beverage and I knew there were plastic cups near the huge upside-down water bottle.

I insert an euro coin into the machine, seriously, eighty euro cents for such a caffeinated disgrace is a scandal. We worship coffee in my household and this, right here, doesn’t deserve this noble appellation. That being said, it never stopped me from drinking it. I stop a moment after taking my first sip.

Should I bring him a drink? That could be nice and make him feel welcomed. On the other hand, my knowledge on what he likes was completely non-existent.

Hot chocolate was a classic but what if he was lactose intolerant?

I finally change my mind about offering a warm drink, finish that disaster they dare to call coffee, fill the cups with water, and go back to Jean.

The store opened and our first customers were coming in. Jean was sketching, he must be using a reference because his gaze drifts to his screen from time to time. The closer I get the more I am able to see what he was doodling.

“There you go!” I say, placing the cups far enough from his phone. I didn’t want to risk an accident.

“Thanks.” he says without looking up at me.

“If you need anything, just ask for me. I won’t be far away.” I offer and he hums in response, focused on what he was doing.

I went back to my work, putting misplaced stuff back where it belongs, advising customers, telling kids not to touch everything and stop playing with paint brushes. I glanced at Jean from time to time. A friend of his joined him, a slim blond man with huge bright eyes, he was a bit loud but Jean didn’t seem bothered in the slightest, he was used to him, dare I say.

I hear a long sigh next to me. It was coming from Sasha, she was looking in the same direction I did.

“Damn, he’s cute!” she whispers.

“More than that, Sash, he’s drop dead gorgeous.” I breathe out.

“That smile, though. I’d kill for that damn smile. I have to protect it!” she adds.

“I know. Likewise. He’s so invested, his focused face is so beautiful. Don’t shame me for being so sappy, please. He’s just.. You know.. So dreamy.” I can’t refrain the softest grin I am able to pull out.

“I wouldn’t say dreamy. But that smile, Marco, lemme tell you, I’m so not going to let it go!” she declares.

“Come on, Sash! Look at him! He’s slightly shorter than me but he’s still pretty tall, his shoulders seem really nice, his chest looks so warm and welcoming and oh boy, what would I give to run my hand through this smooth-looking hair of his. I’m telling you, he’s totally dreamy.” I let out. Dreamy and rude, but still very very dreamy.

“ _Oh_. I think we’re not talking about the same guy.” my coworker laughs. “I was talking about the nice one, you know, not the cranky exhausted artist over there but his friend. God, he’s cute, hope he’s single!”

Sasha is an awesome woman, she’s funny, extremely goofy and I love working with her. Although she’s always smiling, there are two things she’s way too intense about: food and the ones she loves. She could fight anyone even if she doesn’t look like it, she’s pretty impetuous but she’s always got her favorite people’s backs. She was a local celebrity back in the day, she was a professional archer. Won few gold medals in French championships and few silver and bronze ones internationally. I know she still practices at the local club, little girls just _adore_ her, she told me once that a child said she was the best girl ever because she was both a princess and a knight in armor because she’s a stunningly beautiful and extremely strong lady. Sasha also has the most impressive ears. She can identify a noise from miles away even a fly farting in the distance wouldn’t get away unnoticed.

She’s still looking at the skinnier man.

“There’s only one way to find out if he’s single, you know, Sash!” I encourage her. Her cheeks are pretty red.

“They’re looking at us. I’m taking the cute comment back, his serious face is killing me, Marco. There’s no way he’s single, not with those pretty features! Oh boy, is he hot!” she mutters.

“I never knew you so shy, you usually go ahead. What’s stopping you?” I demand.

“Marco? Did you miss the whole ‘he’s so damn handsome’ part of what I was saying? Also, last year’s disaster?” she is facing me now.

“I didn’t. You should give yourself more credit! You’re a beautiful young woman, you make me laugh like crazy, so much that my sides hurt like hell for hours. Even though I can tell you’re working on hiding your accent, what you show of yourself is exactly what we get from you. You’re not afraid of being yourself, your obsession with food is slightly concerning, though. You’re energetic and passionate about your hobbies, you could talk about archery for hours and never sound boring at all. Same goes with food. The side of your personality I love the most is how goofy you are, you don’t even try to tone it down and I think that’s great. You sure make some people run away because you’re strong and independent, and that scares guys, but if they fear you, then they don’t deserve you. Just like your ex.” my hands lay on her shoulders and she’s grinning at me.

“You’re so adorable, Marco, thank you. And if grumpy artist over there doesn’t see it, I’ll fight the guy. I totally can take him. He’s way taller than me but hey, artists are weak, aren’t they?” she shrugs and we laugh.

The morning passed pretty slowly and lunch break was coming. I went to Sasha, like every day, hoping we could eat together at the fast food on the other side of the road. Today was no exception and we headed to the cholesterol waiting for us. Finding a table was much harder, lunch time in a fast food located in a huge commercial zone was pretty much hell. We usually splat, she was looking for seats and I ordered. I knew what she ate since we often came here so she could get a place for us, avoiding to stand for long minutes and have a cold meal.

Once I have everything, I try to find my friend. I look at small tables but they’re all taken, I try to make my way through the restaurant before I hear her loud cheery voice calling me from a bit further in the back of the building. She’s waving at me from a large table. I notice she’s not alone the closer I get. The scrawny guy she’s attracted to is here but there are no fries or burgers next to him. Maybe he’s done eating. He’s waving at someone I don’t see.

“Can you move, I’m trying to reach my friend over there.” I immediately recognize the dry voice which spoke behind me. It was Jean’s. I hurry to join Sasha and sit next to her.

“I’m Connie!” the other man introduces himself before briefly shaking my hand. “I guess you already met Jean, our local cranky boy.” he points at his friend.

Sasha dives in her massive lunch as I shyly take a fry or two, trying not to stare at the attractive artist right in front of me. I thought I would never witness such a thing in my life but it seems like Sasha and Connie were equally crazy and loud. They get along amazingly well and the guy doesn’t look annoyed or even scared at all by the young woman next to him. He genuinely is at ease with her and I can’t be happier for my friend. She’s truly an amazing woman and her ex dumping her after cheating on her repeatedly for months brought her down last year. He left her because her personality was a lot to deal with and unladylike. We weren’t that close before she opened up to me about this. She was just the loud starving lady to me but then, I caught her crying in the break room someday and that’s how our friendship started. I gave her lots of support and she almost shot my ex when he threatened me weeks later. I was at the archery club, waiting for Sasha, and the guy showed up, he yelled at me for ignoring his texts and accused me of cheating. Even though I’m a giant and could be using my height to intimidate people easily, I never do that. I always want to talk before making any decision, that’s what I wanted to do when my ex made a scene in front of the club. My friend heard screams, she ran towards me and aimed her bow at the guy requesting him to leave or else. Needless to say that he never tried to reach me after that. It’s funny how different Sasha looks when she aims a bow. She always has a sparkly gaze which becomes really piercing and darker when she’s focused on a target. I’m not ashamed to admit that if I weren’t so painfully gay, I’d probably have tried to hit on her.

I pretend not to notice the stormy green eyes resting on me and excuse myself before going to the restroom. I wash my hands and splatter some water on my face before wiping it with tissues. I sigh as I wonder how I could figure Jean. He barely speaks and when he does, his tone is dry and clearly annoyed. The only subject I know could relax him is art but I can’t hold a conversation about it since I have no knowledge in that topic and yet, I’m assigned to art supplies section, crazy, I know. On the other hand, I could learn useful things for my job and be better at advising customers. I’m not into art at all and yet, I’m willing to discuss it just to get to know that one interesting guy I’m so curious about. I enjoy his looks and I can’t get his shimmering gaze from earlier out of my mind. I take a deep breath before returning to Sasha.

I head to our table and when my coworker notices me, she grabs her coat and drags Connie along with her. They exchange a glance full of innuendos and both of them smirk. The woman pats my shoulder and murmurs a ‘You’ll thank me later, good luck’ into my ear before leaving while cackling. I notice two cups on the furniture and Jean told Connie to ‘shut the fuck up’ because he could ‘handle’ himself. Both of them gave us thumbs up before going outside.

I sit back where I was, always refraining myself from ogling Jean. Seconds then minutes passed.

“Con and your friend bought those drinks for us. Apparently, hot beverages bring people together or some bullshit among those lines. I can’t care less, honestly, but hey who am I to refuse free hot chocolate? I came here just for art supplies and money.” he says. Since he mentioned art supplies, I think it’s appropriate to chat about art in general.

“How long have you been making art?” I question before taking a sip on my drink. Coffee tastes much better here than at work.

“Ten years, maybe? I used to draw when I was a kid, pretty much like everyone else, I liked it but I got mocked a lot and I ended up giving up on that. My biggest regret, to be honest. I got into mangas and comics years later, when I was like seventeen. I loved how they used colors and everything, I was amazed so I wanted to try. For once in my life, I didn’t get into something just to impress some fine ass in order to get into their pants but for my personal enjoyment. Little shits at school made fun of me, of course, but I kept going. Brought me nowhere, I don’t really live off my art, I sell stuff sometimes but I’m not famous or anything and it’s okay.” he answers.

“I started using watercolors five years ago, I was at a friend’s and she was painting flowers, they were absolutely stunning and she offered me to try out her paint, so I did, and lemme tell you, I fell in love artistically. I used those crappy colored pencils and awful markers you can find at Auchan at that time, and I hated what I did so much because it was nothing near decent. There were markers strokes everywhere, same with color pencils, I couldn’t get a plain result, there was always something wrong. I was losing my interest in art at that time. Then, watercolors came into my life and everything was much better even though the proportions were disastrous, it was prettier and softer. Sorry, I’m rambling too much when it comes to art, you must be bored.” he sheepishly apologizes when he caught me staring.

“I’m okay, thanks. I love listening to invested people talking about their hobbies. That being said, I should empty that cup and go straight back to work if I don’t want to get in trouble.” I declare apologetically.

I take the last gulp of my coffee, throw the cup away and head back to Cultura. I’m few minutes late but I should be okay. I hang my coat and my scarf before slipping into the company’s jacket, putting my best smile on my face, ready to serve customers.

The store is more crowded in the afternoon than this morning which means more people to watch, trying to avoid thefts as much as possible (you have no idea of how many small items vanish into those tiny black holes that pockets are), also there are much more children to look after because their parents have no consideration for employees and other customers when their monsters destroy stuff. I can’t recall how many paint brushes we had to get rid of because some kids played with those, pulling hair and putting it all over the place. We also have individual large pieces of paper which got ripped and when we asked them to pay for the damage, they wouldn’t agree because ‘what proved it was _my_ kid who did this?’, security cameras did, but even with that piece of proof, we almost never get compensated because they’re ‘just kids, they don’t know what they’re doing’ and we have to let them live and enjoy their childhood. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against children, I am not against the idea of adopting some one day, I’m just upset that their relatives don’t even try to raise them right, putting some limits to such young people won’t make them unhappy or anything.

Jean called me because he needed a refill for one of his water cups. When I came back to him, I ranted about how irresponsible and inconsiderate parents are to employees and other customers when their kids damage our articles.

“Well, just ask them if their little brat believes in Santa Claus, the younger the better because if they say the kid does, you reveal the terrible truth about this creepy man in the most brutal way you can think of. Just don’t forget to pull out your most innocent smile, though.” he chuckles.

“JEAN!! I can’t do that?!” I exclaim.

“Why?”

“Because they will feel betrayed, that’s why and it’s awful!” I declare.

“Yeah? And? They’ll find out a way or an other, anyway, so the sooner the better, don’t you think?” he snorts.

“You absolute monster!” I sound dramatic on purpose and the wide grin on his face is totally worth my slight contrariety about betraying children. My whole body softened with no warning, my legs felt like melting jelly and my chest warmed up a little. He’s resplendent, his face is glowing and I think I went blind for a sec. I smoothly smile back at him, trying to ignore the unwelcome heat invading my cheeks.

“From what I saw and based on you calling me an absolute monster for such a silly, yet hilarious thing, lemme tell you, Marco, you’re way too kind and mild, they have no issue making a mess out of stuff you guys sell here. I honestly don’t see why you should be nice to them when they’re being assholes to everyone else.” he affirms firmly before mumbling few inaudible words and going back to drawing.

Some people got curious about Jean’s work, he barely answered questions the assistance asked and I noticed uneasy glances drifting to me, desperately calling for help. He wasn’t very social and it showed. I apologetically grin at him and head to Armin’s office asking if I can stay next to our guest a bit more because he seemed uncomfortable, I insisted on how _welcomed_ that would make him feel and my request got granted.

On my way back to the event corner, I stop by the coffee machine and order a hot chocolate for Jean. I know it tastes better than the bitter anxiety juice they attempt to sell as coffee, I hope he’ll like it because the one he drank earlier smelled and looked delicious.

When I finally reach the table where he’s painting, he gives me a hopeless look. He’s clearly overwhelmed and dislikes being watched while making some art.

“Here. Brought you this. I thought a hot beverage would make you feel better.” I hand him the steaming drink. He lifts his head up to me before taking the hot plastic cup.

“Thanks, Marco.” the gentlest smile spreads on his face and I grin back at him. We stare at each other for something like two seconds before a disapproving grunt brings us back to reality.

An elderly lady is frowning at us, she tries to drag a young green-haired person, surely a relative, because she doesn’t want to ‘encourage’ such a ‘disgraceful life style’. The younger one, surely in their late teenage years, insisted on staying and if their grandma was upset about two guys eyeing each other, she could just go wait for them outside. The kid apologizes to us before complimenting Jean on his work, following him on social media and asking if he took commissions. I excuse myself before going to my assigned section because Mina, who replaces me, was gesturing to me, asking for help.

Some angry child kicked the paint brushes shelf and everything fell. Of course, parents called an employee and flew away without giving a single apology.

“God, I hate kids but they’re even worse in December!! When will parents control those brats??” Mina rants.

“I like children, but parents don’t try to raise them right anymore, that’s what bothers me, actually. If they don’t have discipline, how do you want those little people to know that what they’re doing is rude?” I sigh as we gather every item and check them to be sure we’re not selling broken stuff.

“I know you’re right, Marco but.. I never could stand those gremlins Satan himself spawns.” she chuckles.

“And, uuuh.. What’s going on with art boy over there? It’s like you’re the only one who can approach him without being savagely slaughtered by his eyes. Thomas tried to greet the guy and got a very nice ‘shut the fuck up, blondie, I’m working’. Five minutes later, you come out of nowhere and he gets all mushy over a hot drink _you_ gave him. It’s really a shame he’s so despicable, he’s damn attractive. Well, you wouldn’t understand, you’re a guy and guys don’t find the others pretty. Picasso over there also might try to hit on you, wanted to warn you.” she declares. I drop everything I had in hand. _Whoah there_.

“Mina, you know, some men are attracted to other males. You also know that guys can find the others good-looking with no specific meaning, right?” I don’t want to come out to her, especially not after hearing the ‘guys don’t find the others pretty’ and the part of Jean attempting to hit on me she just verbally threw up.

“I know, yeah, but you’re _so_ _not_ gay, Marco. I mean, look at you. Oh sure, you’re a bit fancier than us, but it means nothing, right?” she either wants to make me talk about the team I play for or she’s just being a terrible person. Or she might just be a bit clumsy in her way to translate her thoughts into words. I really want to cling to this idea but a part of me doesn’t buy the clumsiness at all.

“Mina, I don’t want to keep this chat going, you’re being pretty rude here and I highly dislike that. So let’s just gather the last brushes in silence, can we?” I speak more dryly than planned and finally decided to go back to Jean, I gave up on helping my coworker.

I must have the grimmest look on my face because I get weird glances. I take a seat next to the store’s guest and sigh.

“Wanna talk about it?” Jean offers without looking away from his paper.

“It’s nothing, really, I’ll be okay.”

“’kay. I hope so. I mean, I know the black-haired bitch who called you. Been to school with her and lemme tell you that behind her kind looks, Mina Carolina is the hugest cunt you’ll ever meet. Bet she acted like she didn’t know me, which is nice because I always hated that chick, but yeah. Don’t let her cute looks fool you.”

“I won’t.” I assure.

“Good.” he sounds a bit angry because it’s been the third time he erases his sketch.

“Hey, how about you take a break?” I offer. “I don’t know if you have to stay until closing time but my shift’s almost over and you seem to be needing a pause, so let’s breathe some fresh air, what do you say?”

He drops his pencil and stands up, facing me.

“Why?” he demands.

“Why what?” I ask back with confusion.

“Why would you do this to yourself? What the fuck, Marco?”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Jean?”

“Why the fuck would someone like _you_ spend some time with someone like _me_?? Why do you hate yourself? Who hurt you?”

“What do you mean ‘someone like you’? I do enjoy your company, oh sure, you’re not the nicest man that ever existed, but I liked spending some of my time with you today. I mean it.” My last words are pronounced more firmly than the rest. I wanted to emphasize them to make him understand I’m sincere.

“I’m an outcast and before you mention Con, even though he’s the coolest and friendliest dude I know, he often gets put aside because he’s an absolute mad man and his strong personality kind of scares people. I like him because he’s honest and he’s not afraid of being true to himself. He’s also the only guy who could stick with me for more than a year after we were done with high school.” he explains.

“Reminds me of Sash. She’s great and everything but before we became friends, she was always alone, she wanted to fit in but they kept avoiding her. I did that too and I feel terrible for this. She’s friendly and really amazing, but she has a strong personality too and she’s a woman, I don’t see how it’s an issue but some guys out there do. No one dared to bully her because she’s kind of our local pride, she’s an archer, a skilled one. Won some medals in France but also internationally, I think they didn’t want to be shot. Also, I guess that the fact she replied ‘Don’t even think of bullying me or I’ll eat you, that won’t stop me!’ when she was eating her massive lunch on her first day might have helped too.” I chuckle at the mention of that one funny memory and Jean nods.

“I suppose that’s why our friends get along so well. Also, Connie got a thing for brunettes. I can understand the guy, I mean, man, dark hair’s the best.” he locks his gaze with mine and seems determined to keep eye contact as long as possible. His green orbs are intense, I’ve always loved bright eyes because mine are boringly brown. I know I really shouldn’t judge Jean on his looks but considering how stunning he is, it’s quite complicated.

“Can’t relate, sorry, I like ‘em blond.” I give him a side grin before heading to the employees’ locker room.

I admit it, I sort of ran away. I’m not proud of myself but my heart is beating harder than a drummer on his instrument in the middle of a raging solo, I swear I can hear it resonating all over the room, making walls tremble.

“Ah Marco, there you are!” I jolt at the voice speaking to me. “The rude Picasso guy is looking for you.” I turn to the man talking to me.

“You know, Thomas, he’s got a name and Jean is actually nice.” I declare.

“Sure thing.” Thomas rolls his eyes.

“Why is it so hard to believe?” I almost grunt.

“It’s not because _you_ managed to tame the guy that he’ll be polite with the rest of us. How did you do that, by the way? Did you blow him or something? He’s always frowning and when you appear, he’s much more relaxed. It’s like everything and everyone annoy him to no end, he speaks dryly all the time and when you show up, he goes from Jurassic Park’s T-Rex to Toy Story’s in less than half a minute.”

“I’ve just been kind to him, I talked to him, questioned him about his passion. It really is that simple. Also, Thomas, isn’t it obvious? You guys kind of judged Jean and he surely noticed. He even might have heard some comments. I can’t affirm that for sure but Mina warned me about Jean trying to hit on me and her words lead me to assume you guys started off on the wrong foot. There’s nothing wrong with clumsiness but being judgmental in the most gratuitous way is definitely the worst thing you could ever think of.” I know I sound like a disappointed teacher and that it looks like I’m scolding my colleague but I can’t let them get away with such an awful behavior.

I grab my belongings and get closer to the door.

“Marco?” Thomas calls.

“Yes?”

“Mina’s right, you know? I wouldn’t be surprised that he attempts something before the end of the week. He’s not toning the whole attraction towards you thingy down, he clearly got a soft spot for you. You’re a good man, after all, it’s not astonishing that he’s drawn to you. Just, you know… Just be careful out there, okay?”

“Careful of what? Spending a pleasant time with a friendly man? So scary, indeed. See you tomorrow.” I sass before leaving the room.

When I’m finally out of the staff’s area, I see Jean on a bench, patiently waiting. He packed all his supplies in a plain black messenger bag, probably to avoid any theft.

“Hey, sorry for the wait. Thomas told me you were looking for me.”

“’S okay. Yeah, taking a break isn’t a bad idea so I thought, if your offer still stands, we could go grab a snack and a drink. I mean, I don’t wanna be a bother or anything, you look a bit pissed, so yeah, don’t force yourself.” he says, unsure.

“Sure! Let’s get going, I’m a bit hungry so I planned on getting a treat.” I answer as I feel my features lighten before smiling.

“’Kay, cool, cool.” he replies before we leave my workplace.

It got way colder than earlier mainly because the wind rose. We almost run to the small mall. I automatically go to my usual coffee shop, it’s fortunately not crowded so we’ll find a seat pretty easily. I order my usual stuff, a decaf and a croissant, Jean asks for a hot chocolate and a little brioche.

Once I paid, we head to a table in the back where I know we won’t be bothered.

“That place’s nice and cozy.” Jean says, taking his scarf off, his eyes wandering all over the room.

“I love the color scheme, very autumnal and earthy. It feels warm and welcoming.” he adds.

“I agree. I think my favorite things are the walls made of wood, it feels even better on chillier days, they add a relaxing wintry vibe. Those leather seats, however, feel like hell in summertime. They’re all sticky and even though they’re sanitized every time a customer leaves on hot days, they’re kind of gross, in my opinion.” I put a piece of sugar in my drink and make little circular moves with my spoon before taking a sip. I cut a piece of my croissant and take a bite.

We were chatting for about fifteen minutes when I realized I should let him go back to Cultura. Our snacks and drinks were long gone. My day was over but not his, I assumed. That being said, I learned a bit more about Jean. He said he wanted to be a singer when he was a teen but being able to play guitar never meant he could sing. I mentioned being a part of Jinae’s church choir but had to give up on singing there because the priest walked on me kissing a guy at a village party, grabbed me by my tee and brought me back to my parents saying that my behavior was disgusting and unacceptable for a kid singing in God’s house every Sunday. Luckily, my relatives were open-minded, they supported me through this and we never went back to that church ever again. Jean’s parents don’t know about his sexuality, he doesn’t want to tell them because ‘those straight folks never show up to their family and say they hook up with a different gender than theirs’ and ‘telling parents who you’re sleeping with is pretty disturbing and more importantly, none of their fucking business’. He was born in Trost and always lived there before moving to a bigger city with Connie who was not only his best friend but also his roommate. He’s been staring at me the whole conversation, as though he was carefully studying my face, analyzing every single detail.

Something like ten minutes later, I looked at my phone again. I really shouldn’t holding him back.

“Can I sketch you?” he demands, taking me aback.

“I’m sorry?” I manage to blurt out.

“I love your features. They look strong, especially your jawline but there’s also a soothing softness I need to capture. They’re absolutely mesmerizing. I mean, in the most artistic way. Not that I.. I mean, it’s not like the whole staff didn’t notice I was into guys. I just..” he glances away with a slight hue of pink shading his cheeks.

“Okay!” Can you be more eager, Marco? “Just pull your sketchbook out of your bag, Michelangelo! Unless you want to sketch in a calmer, less crowded place?” I offer with a smooth grin. It’s when his eyes widened that I realized what I accidentally implied.

“I mean, maybe.. we could.. uuuh.. I messed up big time, didn’t I?”

“You did, yup. I don’t mind, though. A calmer and less crowded place would be _really_ nice, actually. Sounds rather enticing, dare I say, especially if we’re _all alone_.” he shrugs before smirking. A spark flashes in his gaze and does he sound deeper and raspier because I think his voice does the ungodliest things to me? We’re on Monday, I have to spend six more days next to that man, what could go wrong? It’s going to be hard as hell, but I have to behave. He openly admitted to enjoy my features and responded pretty positively to my accidental and terrible flirting so it’s obvious he’s quite interested.

I stand up to put the cups we used aside and place the tray where it belongs.

“Shouldn’t you be heading back to the store?” I ask, unwillingly.

“No? The short blond kid told me I could leave so I did.” he wraps his scarf around his neck. “Plus, don’t you dare think you’ll get away with such a tempting offer like you’re manifestly attempting to.” that one smirk is going to be the end of me, I swear. He hisses and frowns when pulling on the piece of clothing around his throat.

“Jean?”

“Piercing got stuck _again_ , dammit! What the fuck was I thinking when I bought this goddamn fuckery of a scarf?” he rants. I slowly make my way to him and lean to his left ear.

“Hang on, I’ll take a look and try to help. I apologize in advance if I hurt you more than you already are.”

I notice a light pink spot on the tip of his ear. I struggle a bit with stitches because it got stuck pretty badly.

“Does it hurt?” I question. I tuck a bothering hair strand behind the reddening flesh I have in sight.

“I’m okay.” he breathes shakily. The air he let out crashes against my bare neck which makes me quiver. I finally set the silver piece of jewelry free from its wool prison.

“Thanks.” he murmurs, using _that_ voice, the one which makes my insides burn.

Oh dear, do I want to kiss him.

I must not be weak, though.

Hard not to be with who I have in front of me and oh sweet Jesus, what a sight.

Dressing myself to face the upcoming cold wind whipping my face with full force, I try to avoid eyeing at Jean. I clear my throat.

“I should go back home. That was nice, thanks for coming, Jean.” I try to keep my composure as long as possible. He’s scribbling something on the corner of a page of his sketchbook

“Here. If being in a calmer, less crowded place alone with me still appeals you, just give me a call, okay?” Still speaking in a lower tone, he hands me a ripped piece of paper on which there’s a doodled self portrait winking at me and a phone number. His handwriting is rushed but readable. He gets closer to my face.

“Also, feel free to send some references, us artists love those and such delightful ones are fairly rare. I will keep ‘em for myself so don’t be shy.” his last word sounded and felt like a crackling fire destroying all my defenses one by one.

He backs off immediately, proudly showing a satisfied smirk across his face. He calls his friend Connie, asking when he would pick him up. I hear giggles at the end of the line and Jean goes like ‘Jesus Christ, Conrad fucking Springer, you little..’ before speaking German _extremely_ dryly. He’s not loud or anything, just upset.

“Guess I’m gonna have to take the bus back home.” he grunts. “He got a date, of fucking course he would ask your friend out after drooling all over her, what an ass! Your starving buddy seems to be a great chick and he will do no wrong to her but damn, he could at least have told me!! It’s still early, but I know him, he’ll want to look perfect, especially for that ponytail girl he couldn’t shut the fuck up about after lunch! It’s gonna take _hours_ before he picks an outfit so I’d rather not go back there.”

“You speak German fantastically! I’m impressed! I struggled a lot back in school!” I speak in amazement.

“Yeah, a parent from the German-speaking side of Switzerland kind of helps being bilingual. My last name is Kirstein, not very French, I know. But it sure is useful to get good grades with no effort.” he says like it’s no big deal.

“Well, at least, your name gives a hint on you. I’m from Belgium, my dad still lives there, my mother went back to her home country. I mean, Bott doesn’t exactly sound Italian, if I hadn’t a natural tan all year long, no one would believe me.” I chuckle.

“So…Bott, huh?” Jean arches an eyebrow. “Interesting...” I close my eyes and sigh.

“Yeah, Bott, and no, please don’t. I’ve heard that way too often!” I glance at him while walking outside. The night is already among us making everything more peaceful.

“Besides...” I lower my voice and dive right into the green orbs. “I’m a generous man in general.” My eyes drift away, I give him a half toothy grin when our gazes meet again, barely biting my lower lip.

“Fuck.” he blurts out when he gets my innuendo.

“Serves you right for considering the idea of making a pun out of my name!” I snark.

He escorts me to my car. Despite the aggressive flirting and the growing tension between us, I feel sincerely comfortable around him. I notice that his stiff shoulders really loosened up on the last hour.

I slip just before reaching my vehicle and Jean’s reflexes are impressive because he catches me right away.

“Falling for me, Marco?” he asks in amusement. From my position, he looks breathtaking. “What do I look like from a _Bott_ om point of view?” he emphasizes the first syllable to make me understand he managed to make a pun out of my name anyway. His smug face radiates with self satisfaction and pride.

“You’re the worst.” I accuse, attempting to refrain my laughter.

“Oh come on, Marco! How can you say that when you _literally_ fell in my arms few seconds ago? Have you already forgotten?” I can’t take it anymore and cackle like an idiot in the middle of the parking lot, he joins me in this dumb laugh I’m having as he helps me to straighten my back.

“The absolute worst.” I reiterate my statement.

“You broke my heart!” he dramatically retorts between two giggles. _And mine swelled_ _with a_ _funny_ _tingl_ _y_ _feeling_ , I think. I might have made a huge mistake in the following seconds because when my orbs lay on him, I don’t know anymore.

He’s adorable when he’s a bit more at ease.

And hilarious, so furiously hilarious.

His smile is so pure when it’s genuine.

And that laughter of his? So precious.

The sound of pure bliss he makes echoes in my head.

I…

I was unprepared.

I’m defenseless.

How can a gaze be both so piercing and so sweet?

Not to mention how _heavenly_ he looks from a bottom point of view.

His bright globes glimmer with happiness, the lights are reflecting in them which adds even more sparkles.

I feel a tight knot in my tummy.

So that’s what the butterflies in one’s stomach feeling is all about.

I stand here, on a parking lot, next to my car, my keys in my right hand, my widened eyes glued to the man in front of me, my lips slightly parted, I’m unable to move.

Is there a word more powerful than magnificent? Because that’s what he was, taking my breath away with his unspeakable beauty. What’s the point of being bilingual if I can’t find a single word to describe what I witnessed? Especially when my languages were reputed to be the most romantic ones and everything among those lines.

As a curse word brings me back to reality, I let go the long sigh I was holding. Snow started falling on us with no warning.

“Dude, you froze for a solid thirty seconds, staring blankly at the background behind me, I almost freaked out!” So he didn’t know I was looking at him? I suppose it’s better than if I were caught red-handed.

“I’m okay.. I think.” I duck my head, focusing on unlocking my car door. What on Earth just happened to me? It was weird, like the world was turning way slower for less than a minute making it last a short eternity. I’m a huge hopeless romantic, but I never thought I could be _that_ cheesy because that’s what I am being here, awfully corny. So much that I’m the verge of cringe and if even _I_ think I’m being cringe, things are bad. Really bad.

“Sorry, I obviously zoned out for a little while.”

“No shit, Sherlock!” Jean teases. “I should call Con back. I don’t want him to bring his date home tonight. We don’t have this ‘no one-night stands’ rule, but going to the bathroom in the middle of the night and let’s say that being greeted by a naked Connie Springer is more awkward every single time it happens.” he adds before going a bit farther.

I check my phone, it’s 5pm. I don’t want to go back home. I’m having a blast with Jean, I wish it lasted a bit longer. I wait for him to end his call to say goodbye before going back to my place. I hear a notification coming from my cellphone. A text from Sash.

[From: Cutest Potato] – 17:05:

“Marcooooo!! What should I wear for date night?? ;-;”

<attachment picture: 20201215-17:03.jpg>

<attachment picture: 20201215-17:02.jpg>

“I’m unsure about the dress! Which one do you prefer?”

Sasha wears cute rockabilly dresses on both pictures. On the first one, the dress begins on her shoulders with a black piece of fabric as a collar, the chest part is bi-color with red and white stripes, the bottom part is black too, two series of white buttons lay on the collar just upon the sides of her boobs. It’s adorable. I switch on the second shot on which she’s wearing a plain red dress except for the white collar on which red polka dots are strewn. The collar ends with a knot falling her chest. Sasha is naturally pretty but she’s truly killing this clothing style! I have the hardest time making a choice. I glance up at Jean and consider asking his opinion. He catches my globes and comes to me.

“Can you help me?” I ask.

“Sure! Hang on, Con! What is it about?”

“So.. Sash is hesitant about her outfit and she can’t choose between those two. Neither can I.” I explain before showing the images.

“Oh wow! Con, my dude, you better choose your clothes wisely! I ain’t spoiling it ‘cause I’m no snitch, but you’re going to die when you meet the girl!” he advises.

“Also, Marco, I’d say the first one. It’s not like I’m some kind of fashion expert, I mean, I look like a guy from the ‘90s who kind of got lost in 2020 but I like this one better.” he offers me a gentle smile before shouting at his friend to shut up.

[To: Cutest Potato] – 17:10:

“Sorry for the delay :) Couldn’t decide, I asked a friend.”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 17:11:

“Is your friend tall, blond and grumpy? ;D”

“And dreamy!! My, my!! How could I forget about how ‘dreamy’ he looks in your eyes? xD”

[To: Cutest Potato] – 17:12:

“SASHA NO!! Also, yes I asked Jean.”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 17:12:

“SASHA YES!!!”

“OH!! huhu”

“Don’t forget protection! ;) ;) ;)”

“Friendly reminder that lube is everything! ;p”

“Before an other reminder, SASHA YES!!”

“Tell angry Michelangelo that he has good taste both in dresses and men for me! ;) ;)”

[To: Cutest Potato] – 17:15:

“Would you stop with your winking little guys? They’re so suggestive!!”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 17:16:

“Never!! You like ‘em way too much xD also, that’s why I use them, duh”

I laugh. She’s incredible. I jump at a ‘Conrad Springer, I’m going to fucking kill you, bring your dead ass back just to fucking kill you again!!’ yell tinted with the biggest embarrassment. Jean ends his call, rolls his eyes and comes back to me.

“Friends, am I right?”

“Yeah.” I giggle. “So.. About your roommate? Do you think he’s going to bring Sash over for the night?”

“Aw man, I don’t know! I don’t want to know! Please, God, no! But I guess I’ll have to use those ear things to muffle noise. Walls are so thin at my place, even when he has silent sex, I can hear skin slapping. I wanna puke when I think about it!” he declares, distressed.

“You never bring people to your place after a date?” I can’t contain my surprise.

“Well, I would. If I _had_ dates!” he rolls his eyes. “I’m not really outgoing, and there are times when I barely see the sun, even in summer. Why do you think I’m as pale as a newborn ass cheeks? There’s a reason for that, duh!”

His skin looks like the most delicate porcelain, indeed. I clear my throat and swallow pretty hard when I catch my mind wandering, wondering how purple love bites would pop on his neck. I’m not into hickeys or anything, I even think those are kind of gross and ugly, but I’d mark that complexion without batting an eye.

“Plus, the whole broke artist thingy isn’t attractive and when they don’t mind, I open my mouth and they go ‘nope’ and leave. Guess they’re weak ‘cause they can’t handle honesty.” he adds, shivering. He rubs his hands on his arms.

I unlock the passenger door.

“Come inside with me, you’ll warm up a bit.” I offer.

“Thanks.” he takes the right seat and I join him inside. “Damn, that’s a hell of a nice car!! Con’s looks _wrecked_ next to yours! Man, I swear it smells like old as fuck energy drinks and that shit fucking stinks! But damn, I want you to give me rides from now!! I’m surrounded with sweet spices and coziness and that’s so much better than the monster energy bullshit! So fucking better, damn.” he involuntarily makes eye contact but breaks it less than a second later.

“Shit, I shouldn’t demand rides just like that!”

“It’s alright, Jean. I don’t mind, I mean, a nice ride once in a while always feels good and it never hurt anyone.” I smirk as I start my car to heat it up.

“You little.. Y-You can’t say stuff like that with that innocent expressionless look on your face!!” he stutters.

“What did I say, Jean, hm?” I question, ducking my head on the right, leaning closer to him. I get a bit lower near his knees.

“Marco??” his voice is a bit higher. I reply with an interrogative hum. “What are you..???”

I know what I’m doing and oh dear, do I fancy a flustered Jean. One of the things I didn’t know I needed until a second ago.

“Don’t move, Jean.” I order before quickly drifting my gaze up at him. “Almost there.” He lets a litany of whispered curses escape his parted mouth. His cheeks are bright red, his dilated eyes are laying on me and his bottom lip trembles. That sight runs straight to my crotch. _Serves you right for_ _seducing_ _such a receptive guy!_ , I internally scream. In my defense, no one ever responded like that to my charms.

I finally reach the sponge I always put in the passenger’s door and wipe the misty windows.

“Can you put it back in the door, please?” I hand the wet yellow object to Jean who obliges.

“Feeling warmer?” I ask.

“Way hotter, yeah. That’s all thanks to you, Marco.” he slightly insists on the ‘r’ sound, making it a bit rougher than it originally is and the last syllable is pronounced quietly, almost murmured.

“So.. May I drive you home? I can drop you a street or two from your house, no need to give your exact address.” I offer.

“First, you treat me with the sweetest snack, now you offer me a ride. I must say you were right about being a generous man, Marco, but.. You know.. I’m wondering..” his voice gets hoarser and hoarser as he speaks. He buckles his belt, bringing his face dangerously closer to my ear.

“How generous you can get.” he whispers huskily with a deep chuckle coming from the depths of his throat.

“Also, I’d _love_ a ride home, I just _can’t_ refuse. You offered so nicely, that would be so, _so_ rude of me.” his smug grin is perfectly perceptible in the way he articulates his words.

Due to my sudden shakiness, I accidentally go backwards instead of the opposite direction. Luckily, I notice immediately and go forwards. Jean sets his GPS for me before I leave the huge parking lot.

“Uuuh..” Jean starts hesitantly not so long after I got on the highway.

“Yes?” I look at him without moving my head. He’s as stiff as a frozen broomstick.

“About the sketching thingy…” I hum in response. “When and where do you want to do that? I mean, if you still agree on this.”

“I do. Let me just think.” I answer. My place would be perfect because I’ll feel more comfortable but Jean won’t. Same thing if we go to his house, he’ll be on his territory but I won’t. He dislikes people watching him drawing so my flat is a better idea because if that Connie guy is as similar to Sasha as I think he is, Jean won’t be at ease at all.

“If you have no plans for tonight, turn your GPS off, we’re going to my place.” I offer.

Jean nods and mutes his phone.

“I think it’s a nice idea because I noticed you didn’t like being surrounded with people watching you as you make art. Our friends are on a date which means that there’s a possibility Connie brings Sash over and I know for sure you aren’t enthusiastic at this probability. I live alone, my apartment is small, but we can fit together inside, that won’t be an issue. I just have to make sure you’re okay with going to a stranger’s place.”

“Yeah, I am. I turned the GPS off, so yeah.” he says with a slight shrug.

“You know you can change your mind any time, right? If you want to go back home, just tell me and I’ll drive you there. Also, how long does it take you to sketch people?”

“Uuuh.. Yeah?” I see his gaze staring at me from the corner of my eyes. “And I don’t know? Never did this before. I mean, with someone kind of modeling. So yeah, I have no idea.”

I glance at the car’s clock.

“Okay, so it’s getting late, I mean, we’re twenty minutes away from my house. It’ll be something like 6pm when we’ll get there. I usually start making diner around 7, if you don’t want to eat with me, it’s perfectly fine, I just wanted to let you know that, if you want to, you can stay over to share a meal with me. I also have to warn you, just in case, I live with a cat.” I announce before leaving the highway. I have to stop because of a red light few meters away.

“You do?? Man, I love cats! I can’t adopt one ‘cause Con’s allergic and I don’t want a hairless cat. I can’t afford one of those.” his voice is sparkling with excitement.

“She’s a white and orange tabby cat, her full name is Nacho Cheese Dorito but everyone calls her Dori!” I explain as Jean guffaws like crazy.

“What the fuck??” he articulates between cackles. “That’s a hell of a name, I love it, but oh my God, Marco, why??”

“Look, I might or might not have been more or less drunk when I named her two years ago, drunk me thought it was hilarious, I didn’t know at that moment that they were filling her official papers!!” I defend myself.

“Don’t you mean you were completely _hammered_?! Who the fuck calls his cat like this? Don’t worry, I also think it’s so damn funny.”

I don’t even protest when he makes fun of me for giving such a long and ridiculous name to my baby cat. I just.. I just _can’t_ , you know? His laughter feels like it’s crawling under my skin until it resonates in my bones, spreading the sweetest warmth from my stomach to all over my being.

We’re ten minutes away from home and I really need to find a discussion topic because I have to gather myself.

“So.. You said earlier that you play guitar? Any favorite genre?” I ask.

“I’m into rock, hard rock, punk-rock, a bit of metal and all that kind of stuff, but I’m an absolute _sucker_ for classic rock power ballads. Crazy, I know. What about you?” he shrugs.

“I have to admit that I’m quite astonished. It’s extremely obvious, based on your clothes, but classic rock power ballads are unexpected! And I don’t stick to one music style only, there are songs I like, that’s pretty much it. Any favorite song?” I question.

“How can I pick _one_ among all those masterpieces??? I think I’ll go with the very first I learned because I have a huge soft spot for that one, I mean, it’s a special one to me, since it was my first. I know there are better ones but, you know, try to convince my heartbroken fifteen year-old self. Hint: you can’t.” he chuckles.

“To answer you, it was Don’t Know What You Got (Till It’s Gone) by Cinderella. The acoustic version hit me hard at that time, the original did too because of Tom Keifer’s broken voice but the acoustic was the one I was able to sing without sounding like a dying cat. In my defense, fifteen years old isn’t the best moment to attempt this, you have to trust me!” he states, lightly shaking his head.

“There are few power ballads I like too. My favorite is probably Thunder’s Love Worth Dying For. I always loved Danny Bowes’ voice and Luke Morley’s lyrics are just perfect, especially in Love Worth Dying For!”

“ _Oh_. Romantic, are we?” Jean winks. Oh my God, he _winked_. At _me_! How can he be so lovely and so hot at the same time?? Is he trying to kill me? Marco, calm down, you’re the driver, you can’t melt now! So you compose yourself, you’ll scream in your pillow later, when he’s gone.

“A hopeless one. That being said, I never admitted being an ‘absolute sucker for classic rock power ballads’, bet you’re way cheesier than me!”

“I think you’re worse than me, try me!” he challenges.

It’s still snowing when I identify the apartment complex I live in and snow is one of the most romantic things ever to me, I suppose I can try something.

“What’s your opinion on a snowy day?” I demand.

“I’m sorry?” he’s clearly taken aback by my interrogation but he gathers himself before answering.

“I think it’s annoying as fuck and blinding when I look at it because my dumb ass doesn’t learn his lesson of not laying his eyes on that white fuckery when the freaking sun is reflecting on it and lemme tell you that this reflecting shit freaking burns!! My eyes are pretty sensitive and I hate it! I also hate snow! And being compared to that bullshit doesn’t help! I get it, I’m a pale huge pain in the ass, no need to remind me, thank you!” he rants. Not that romantic, after all, I guess.

“What about you, Marco?” I stare at him, frozen on my seat after parking my vehicle on my assigned spot. Abort mission? I’m tempted to ignore the question but I feel like I have to tell him since he ranted about snow. I want to tell him that despite being a bit annoying, snow is beautiful.

“Well, I can understand the comparison, in all honesty. It _is_ irritating at first glance, after all.” I pause, struggling to refrain the grin gradually widening from cheek to cheek.

“But, when you dare to get closer, it’s incredibly beautiful and soothing. The piercing coldness which pushes people away is an unexpected radiating and welcoming warmth when you take the time to spend few moments with it. And once you get burned so sweetly that all you can do is to want some more, the only thing you _need_ is your bare skin to melt under its fingertips because your composure jumped out of the window with no parachute and you don’t even regret it because it’s impossible to.” I heavily sigh. I lift up my gaze, which was resting on the gearshift, to meet Jean’s. Maybe I shouldn’t have kept going with the comparison.

His orbs were wide opened. His lips were barely parted. His digits were clinging to his trousers.

“Holy _s_ _hit_.” he breathes, furiously blushing. The shade of red invading his face made his green irises much brighter even though his eyes were vastly blown.

“Let’s get inside, shall we?” I offer while undoing my belt with trembling hands. Jean nods before following me.

I open the front door and lead him to the stairs. I live on the first floor, no need to use the elevator. Plus, it takes less time to get home than waiting, pressing my floor button and waiting again to get there.

When I open the door, Dori is waiting for me, meowing. I greet my cat while she carefully studies my guest.

“You’ll find the living room at the end of the corridor, switch is on your right, I lock the door and I’m coming.” I say, gesturing to the room. Jean takes his coat, his scarf and his shoes off and turns on the light few moments later.

After getting rid of my clothes, I join him on the couch but stop walking halfway. Dori is playing with the longer strands of his hair, she reaches out for one of those hands I surprise myself craving for. I’m an adult. I’m thirty-one and my whole being reacts like a lovesick teen. My body doesn’t, though, and I can’t be more reassured about this! Jean plays with Dori, she seems to enjoy herself.

When she calms down, she does that little slow blinking thingy, her head turned to her new friend. I hear an amazed ‘oh my God what a cute little girl you are!! I think I fell in love with you, little Dori’ followed by a whispered ‘I love you more than Marco does and will ever do, I’d abduct you if any opportunity showed up’. I have to protest that one but I won’t want to wipe the fondness on his face away. My princess rubs her forehead on Jean’s arm. When my guest notices me in the threshold, he gives me the loveliest genuine smile. It’s funny how different he looks when he pulls out such a cozy smooth grin from when he cockily smirks with so much smugness.

“I think she likes you.” I remark, attempting to ignore my erratic heartbeat. _And she’s definitely not the only one_ , I think to myself.

I’ve met this man less than twenty-four hours ago and every part of my self is screaming how much I want him.

I’m desperately craving for physical contact.

I’m not used to feeling that way.

It’s, in fact, the first time.

Jean isn’t aware of it, but he’s like the intense wind announcing the raging storm. I’ve met plenty of people in my life, I encountered many men who could potentially get my interest but none of those individuals, not a single one, ever released such a strong emotional howling whirlwind.

“You know you’re at your house and that you can sit, right?” Jean asks, snapping me back to real life.

_Oh_.

Right, I’m still in the room entrance. I make my way to my couch and Dori comes on my lap when I finally take a seat. She’s purring like crazy, bumping her head on my chin. I give her some rubs behind her ear from my fingertips. My little baby ends up showing her belly, waiting for more rubs. I scratch her exposed tummy, Jean’s digits join mine as my fluffy friend playfully bites the pale hand. Before he gets hurt with Dori back legs’ claws, I grab Jean’s wrist and lift it a bit higher, just enough to be unreachable for my cat who jumps from the love seat to run everywhere.

I clear my throat as I let go of Jean.

“So… You wanted to draw?” I’m trying really hard not to stutter and he hums.

“Where’s the best light source? Artificial light isn’t optimal, but it can work. Not like we have a choice here.” he says while fumbling his sketchbook and a pen pouch from his messenger bag. I’m not sure I’m ready to be observed for an unknown amount of time but here I am, consumed with lust while being analyzed by those magnificent green eyes. The more I dive into them, the more beautiful their color is. They’re like gemstones, and I bet they’re even prettier exposed to natural light on a sunny day.

I excuse myself and head to the bathroom. I get rid of my contact lenses for safety reasons and put my glasses on. When I am back in the living room, Jean is taunting Dori with his pencil.

“You don’t know how lucky you are, little Dori.” he sighs. I think he hasn’t noticed me yet.

“Want a drink?” I offer, watching his shoulders twitch at my voice.

“Yeah, please, what you got?”

“Depends. Do you want it hot or cold?” I demand, going to my kitchen.

“Humm.. Definitely hot.” he purrs at the moment I step next to him.

Was that?? No, no, Marco, he made a choice when your legs were coincidentally walking in front of his gaze. He _purred,_ though. Just go get some drinks instead of overthinking everything the guy says or does!!

“Just follow me.” I instruct, leading Jean to the next room. It’s small but we both fit in. I open the top closet to check what’s inside.

“So I have some super Poulain, some tea, chicory coffee and plenty of coffee brands.” I list.

“I’ll take the super Poulain, please. Shame you don’t have some Lion, I love that one.” he declares.

“I can’t find it any longer, I used to love that one too. Super Poulain is one of my favorites, Milka tastes really good but it’s not worth its price, in my opinion.” I explain while handing the orange box to Jean. I reach my closet with mugs, grab a light gray cup and give him a spoon. I place a milk bottle next to him. I hear a stomach growl, reminding me how late it must be.

“Jean? So.. It must be something like 7pm now and I was wondering if you wanted to share diner with me.” I suggest after noticing a print on the left glass of my specs. I glance at my guest, waiting for his answer while taking my spectacles off to clean them with the bottom of my sweater.

Jean’s grip tightens around the mug handle.

“Fuck, you’re hot.” he blurts out quietly.

“Look who’s talking.” I retort at the same volume.

“If it’s as late as you think it is, I’d suggest not to drink hot chocolate but to order some food or something.” he offers and I nod.

“What do you wanna eat?” he questions. My brain is yelling one word. Three Letters. _You_. “My treat.” he adds. _Oh dear, definitely you, then_ , I mentally sigh.

“Earth to Marco?” he waves in front of me. “Are you okay? I usually don’t care about people getting weird around me because I’m used to it, but that’s a whole different kind of weird and it’s concerning me. You’ve been strange from the moment you fell for me on the parking lot earlier.” he wiggles his eyebrows with an amused grin.

‘From the moment you fell for me on the parking lot earlier’. He can’t say that. Not with that smile. Not with that smooth voice. Not like that.

I know he’s kidding.

I know that.

But…

This aching sensation in my chest doesn’t fool me.

I _might_ have fallen for him, indeed. A sincere, relaxed laughter and sparkling eyes were all it took.

And he’s totally oblivious to the ways he affects me.

We leave the kitchen after putting everything back where it belongs. Jean asks where the restroom is and I give him directions. My phone screen lit up with a notification.

[From: Cutest Potato] – 19:05:

“Marcoooo!! I’m sooo nervous!! >A<”

“Please help me!”

[To: Cutest Potato] – 19:07:

“Hey Sash!! :) Relax, he’s not going to eat you, you know!”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 19:09:

“I wouldn’t mind tho ;)”

“Shit here he comes!”

<attachment picture: 20201215-19:10.jpg>

“He!!”

“I’m telling you, Marco, even if it’s for a night, I need to get him into my pants! ;)”

On the picture my friend sent, Connie is wearing a nice coat opened on a white shirt, top buttons are undone, falling on his darker jeans with a thin loose tie. The shot she snapped looks a bit blurry as though she zoomed in with her camera.

[To: Cutest Potato] – 19:12:

“He looks nice, indeed :) Have fun, Sash! Please text me if needed.”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 19:13:

“Can I face time you for a sec?”

[To: Cutest Potato] – 19:13:

“Sure! :)”

My phone rings few moments after granting her request.

“Hey, Sash!” I greet.

“Hey, so get this, he’s getting closer and he’s gorgeous. What am I going to do, Marco?? I don’t want to ruin this!!” she looks stressed.

“Oh good evening, Connie!” she says. “I’m face timing Marco, my best work friend and my work best friend!” she adds nervously. A tanned face pops on screen before Connie waves at me.

“Good evening. Hey, so I haven’t heard from Jean for a little while now and I’m worried, do you know which bus he… HOLD THE FUCK ON??!!” he screams his last words, his eyes widen and so do Sasha’s. I turn my head and see Jean coming back to the couch.

“Connie???” my guest almost shouts in surprise. “Hey man, sorry, I kind of lost track of time. And Marco zoned out quite a bit, got me worried.” he says, giving me side looks tinted with a certain fondness. I wish, at least.

“Yeah, no wonder you did.” the short-haired man rolled his eyes. “Man, wish me luck! She’s damn stunning, look at her, even your dramatically gay ass can’t deny how breathtaking she looks!” Connie murmurs, visibly hoping not being heard by his date. Think again, sir.

“Thanks! You look great too, Connie!” Sasha complimented back before leaning closer to him. They glance at each other before grinning mischievously.

“Don’t forget condoms, guys! Lube also does miracles!” they speak in unison before turning to each other with that ‘oh my God where have you been my whole life??’ expression on their faces, they exchange a high five and Sash ends the call.

I get a text from her moments later.

[From: Cutest Potato] – 19:25:

“This is Connie, Sasha lent me her phone because I don’t have your number”

“I lent mine to her too, she wants a chat with Jean”

“I’m curious, why is he not at our place?”

[To: Cutest Potato] – 19:27:

“He asked something and I thought it would be simpler at my house”

[From: Cutest Potato] – 19:28:

“OOOOHHH!!! [smirking emoji]”

“Sasha told me”

“You guys are so obvious, man, it’s painful”

“Just screw him already”

“I know he’d love that”

“Speaking of loving stuff, he’ll lose his mind if you touch his hair and Sasha said you wanted to run your hand through it, soooo go get him, tiger [smirking emoji]”

I sigh and jump when my guest gasps.

“What the fuck???” his voice sounds higher. He got paler, then redder when he eyed at me.

“Is everything alright, Jean?” I question. He nods in response as he takes his sketchbook.

“Can we?” he demands, tapping his pencil on the brown cover.

“Sure.”

I’m trying to relax but knowing that his eyes are resting on me, carefully studying me, is slowly killing me. I get up, at some point, to get rid of my sweater and I undo a button of my shirt because it’s getting way too hot in here.

When I sit back down, Jean puts his drawing pad aside and kneels before me, right between my legs. Worst idea ever, considering how close he is to me. I feel his breath on my mouth.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just scrutinizing your features.” he speaks lowly. “May I touch? It’s okay if you refuse, huh, it can help me to understand your face. Don’t worry, I won’t do anything weird, I promise.” _I wish you did, though_ , I tell myself.

Once I gave my consent, he lightly cups my face, softly rubbing his thumbs on my cheekbones. We’re centimeters away from each other and I’m holding on my pants for deal life. His fingers run through my jawline and his orbs never leave mine. I notice quick glances at my lips lasting longer and longer. If only he knew I’d sell my soul for a kiss.

“You’re so beautiful.” he mutters before going back to sketching. He erases before tracing lines again.

“What’s on your mind, Marco?” he asks smoothly.

“Why you ask?”

“You seem preoccupied and knowing will make me improve with expressions and how to read them.” he responses.

I sigh.

“Last time I saw someone like this, it was Connie having a girl problem. You don’t have to give details or even explain.” he points out.

“I feel pathetic about this.” I declare. “There’s this guy I barely know and I think I might have fallen for him in less than a day. First time it ever happened to me. To the others, he’s just a random despicable man but he’s insanely attractive and adorable to me. Told you it was pathetic.” I sheepishly add.

“I can tell you got it bad. I don’t think you’re being pathetic, though.”

“The worst part is how oblivious he is. Well, serves me right for being such a sappy hopeless romantic.” I shrug, sounding way sadder than I expected.

Jean’s right. I got it bad. _Real_ bad. How can such a thing happen in less that twenty-four hours?? How can such a thing happen over a blissful cackle in the middle of a huge parking lot at night??

“Can’t judge the oblivious guy, I’m the densest dude you’ll ever meet, according to Con.” he states. You don’t say?

I face him now and see some hair falling on his face. He blows on it to push it away without letting his pencil go. I lean to him when his globes meet mine. God, his lips are so enticing. I tuck the rebellious strand behind his ear, maintaining eye contact, lightly brushing his scalp with the tip of my fingers. It’s as soft as I expected, what I didn’t expect, though, was the almost silent sigh under my touch.

“S-Sorry..” he stutters. I give another stroke, slightly griping on the smoothness under my digits. He squints, furrowing his brow, shakily breathing.

“I’m not.” I groan as I clumsily untie his hair, making it fall on his neck. “So don’t be. Don’t you dare be sorry.” My tone is way sharper and my voice is much deeper. Never knew I could sound like this.

Jean gives up on drawing, he places his supplies on the short table next to us.

“Maybe we should eat. Aren’t you hungry?” he questions.

“I’m _starving_.” I declare, biting my bottom lip.

“What do you want?” it’s an innocent question, I _know_ it is. I just need to calm down. “I mean, I’m pretty open to everything, so what do you like? I’m not afraid of testing new stuff and… Marco?”

I swallow pretty hard. I have to behave, I can’t succumb to my urges to kiss him because I know that if I do, I won’t be able to stop myself. He’s so not aware of what he does to me and it’s painful. His palm reaches my thigh, right between my knee and my hips. Sweet Lord, what would I give for those fingers to explore my body.

“Hey, buddy, you okay there?” I stiffen when his hand tightens around my limb after his interrogation.

“If you only knew...” I start. Two of his digits hold my chin as he leans closer until I feel the air blowing on my mouth.

“I might be oblivious, dense, and so damn dumb, Marco…” he whispers huskily. “But..” his lips brush mine.

“That look you have in your eyes right now can’t fool me. Because I must have the same in mine.”

My fingers travel from his cheek to the back of his head, I grab his hair and crash my mouth on his. He moans against my lips when I pull some strands a bit back. If the kiss was the spark that lit my match, then his pierced tongue was what incinerated me. I was surprised by the contact of the cold and hard jewel at first but oh dear, did it feel good.

Jean clings to my shirt collar with his hands, pulling me closer to him before slowly pinning me on the couch. He’s putting his whole body into that embrace and I’m melting under him. I automatically place my hands on his back, under his green flannel. He barely backs off, just enough for air.

“Oh God..” he mutters before kissing the right side of my lips, making his way through my jawline to my earlobe.

“You’re so damn gorgeous.” his voice is raspy and he sounds even better right in my ear. I clench on his tee when his mouth attacks my neck, making me quiver and sigh. His teeth nibble on my skin, making me moan.

He pauses to get rid of his green piece of clothing as I examine every gesture. The way his fingers get lost in his blondness while he’s glancing at me after the fabric slid over his arms makes my mouth dry. I get up on my feet just to pin Jean on my love seat and spread my legs around him as I sit on his lap.

Jean’s palms rest on my hips, mine are on his shoulders. I peck at his lips before smooching my way to his neck, my digits going back to the soft blond mess. I kiss his luscious flesh like I would do to his mouth, fervently and affectionately, with a hint of tongue, just the tip. He breathes out my name when I stroke his scalp, tightening his grasp on me as though he was attempting to refrain himself from touching me.

“Just touch me already, Jean.” I half beg before slithering my fingertips under his tee.

Jean is agonizingly slow to unbutton my shirt, mostly struggling because of me distracting him. He ogles my torso before brushing my complexion with his digits. I was a bit self-conscious for a sec because of my slight tummy fat, he was all bony but strong and thinner than me.

“Whoah… Marco.. You’re perfect..” he purrs against my collarbone. And there go my insecurities. His hands lay on my sides, his thumbs caressing my waist with the gentlest gesture.

My intoxicating desire for him and my growing arousal are exacerbating the sensation of his touch so much that my head is spinning. My blood felt like it was running faster in my veins, I wanted Jean and I wanted him now.

We backed off for some oxygen again, I took a close look at his red face while catching my breath. He was splendid, so damn splendid. I gently rubbed my thumb on his cheek, I saw he didn’t expect me to because his eyes drifted away as though he was embarrassed. I pecked on his forehead.

“You okay, Jean?”

“Yeah..” he murmured against my torso, his grasp tightening on my waist. “’m not used to affectionate gestures.” he muttered almost silently.

I cupped his face, trying to make eye contact.

“We can stop, Jean. You don’t ha..”

“I never said I didn’t want to keep going.” he cut me off before pulling me closer to him in order to claim my lips.

Every time his body met mine, whether it was a slight brush my flesh or a tight grasp on my pelvis, I felt like I was burnt and marked as his.

When our mouths went apart, not too far either, I was still able to feel his lips against mine, I stiffened before dumbly cackling because of a growl coming from my neglected starving stomach. Jean joined me into laughter maybe like two seconds after I started.

I was still straddling him, my forehead was resting on his shoulder as we guffawed like mad men as if we were releasing that ardent tension we built.

“Pizza?” I suggested.

“Pizza.” Jean agreed before surprisingly hugging me tight.

“Jean?” I called with astonishment but had no reply except a long silent sigh. I removed some of his bangs and kissed his forehead.

We eventually ordered our takeout full of cholesterol, I had a very nice evening with Jean who ended up spending the night home.

We found out the next day that Connie stayed over Sasha’s, nothing apparently happened despite what my colleague told me about getting her date into her pants. That being said, they spent the last ten hours playing Twister and other similar crazy games. They both admitted they had a blast and my favorite work buddy asked her new friend if they could meet some more and he enthusiastically accepted, confessing he was hoping for even more since she was amazingly nuts, witty, funny and ‘shit, you’re so pretty I can’t refuse’.

As for me, I asked Jean out on a proper rendezvous after the week he had to spend at my workplace ended. I brought him to the biggest art supplies store in the region and based on the excitement he was attempting to hide (spoiler alert: he terribly failed), he never went there. I noticed that some colors caught Jean’s interest but he got disappointed when he checked the price tag. I decided to surprise him and I discreetly purchased five half-pans and a metal tin in case he didn’t own one already. I paid extra euros to wrap the gift and waited until the very last moment to give it to him when I drove the guy to his place.

Jean’s earnest blissful grin was the best thing I could ever witness and decided to get even more, he wasn’t the materialist kind of man and like I said, I was a generous one especially when it came to affection. He seemed unsettled at first, even overwhelmed from time to time, I could tell he was unsure about trusting me but I had a good feeling about this.

My coworkers eventually noticed I was committed to someone and some of them (Armin) actually expected me to fall for Jean.

A year later, we helped Sasha and Connie moving in their first flat which was a floor above mine. My friend loved Dori but was very careful when she went back to her boyfriend because of his allergy. I suggested Jean to come to my place someday and he never left, giving up on finding a new roommate, my fluffy princess and him really got along and I couldn’t be happier.

I had everything I’ve ever wanted, a warm home, a cat and the best man that could ever break into my life.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!
> 
> If you liked this one thing, don't be shy and let me know!! I am currently working on more stuff so ye, I might be back sooner than I think lmao


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